


you'll never know how many dreams i've dreamed about you

by ohmyloki



Series: of gifts and memories [1]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Captain America: The Winter Soldier Spoilers, M/M, Post-Captain America: The Winter Soldier
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-08
Updated: 2014-04-08
Packaged: 2018-01-18 14:20:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,366
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1431676
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ohmyloki/pseuds/ohmyloki
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The simple fact was that Bucky was still out there somewhere and Steve wasn’t going to give up until he found him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	you'll never know how many dreams i've dreamed about you

**Author's Note:**

> Slight CA:TWS spoilers. Unbeta'd.

Steve sighed as he unlocked the door to his apartment and stepped in. It was smaller than the last one, the one SHIELD had arranged for him. This time he hadn’t bothered to furnish much outside of what was necessary, knowing that the next few months, maybe even years, would be spent in and out; only staying long enough to recuperate and find a new lead. Why bother making it feel like home when the only thing, the only _person_ , that felt like home to Steve wasn’t there?

It had been nearly a year since Bucky had saved his life instead of taking it. A year of false leads and even more false hope, weeks in foreign countries chasing down stories that turned into nothing. Natasha had warned him of the ghost story that Bucky had become but Steve was ill prepared for the reality of the situation. He chased after the phantom that was his friend, and everywhere he went he learned another painful story, another heartbreaking truth of what Bucky had been turned into against his will.

And, as painful as it was for Steve, he knew that when Bucky remembered who he was--and Steve knew he would someday--it was going to be so much worse for him. Steve hadn’t been able to save Bucky from the fall, but come hell or high water Steve was going to save Bucky from himself.

The simple fact was that Bucky was still out there somewhere and Steve wasn’t going to give up until he found him.

Setting his keys down on the table near the doorway, he didn’t bother turning on the lights as he shrugged out of his jacket. It had been another long one. He and Sam had spent nearly a month overseas digging up what they could, turning over every stone, but ultimately leaving with nothing more than a few more ghost stories to tell around the campfire. Steve wanted to do nothing more than sit in the dark and let himself just forget for a few minutes. Forget his responsibilities, forget the world he now lived in, forget the way Peggy seemed to remember him less and less these days…

He scrubbed his face with his hand and made his way over to the chair Sam liked to call his ‘brooding chair’.

[“I do not brood.”

“Sitting in complete silence, staring at the paint on the walls… what else would you call that?”

“...Internalized restructuring.”

“You’re brooding, man. It’s alright; you missed your chance to be an angsty teenager. Brood all you want. Just know that if you ever actually want to talk about it--”

“I know, Sam. Thank you.”]

He almost sat down before he noticed the chair was already occupied. Eyebrows furrowed, he picked up the record and turned it over in his hands. He smiled.

Steve might not have furnished his apartment more than had been necessary, but scattered through the rooms were a few trinkets and books that had been gifted to him. After nearly every mission, any time Steve was away for longer than a day or two, he’d come home to find something waiting for him. Some little bobble from another country, an old book that he’d never heard of but ended up loving, small little items that had a strange personal touch.

It hadn’t taken him long to realize that this was just Natasha’s strange way of checking in with him without making it feel like she’s checking in. He’d only asked that she give him a call once in awhile, leave it to her to take the idea and run with it in her own way. Nevertheless, his heart did warm every time he saw whatever she had left him. Though, he did still wish she would call, she was a friend and it would be nice to hear her voice every once in awhile. But he’d take what he could get.

He slid the record out of its sleeve and walked over to the small tabletop turntable, one of the few items he’d bothered recovering from his old apartment, and set the needle down carefully. The soft, slow strains of music filled the room.

The song was old and familiar. As he sat down, Steve tried to remember where he might have heard it before. But it’s a long song and Steve is so utterly tired in every way that before long he gave up on placing it and let himself drift to sleep where he sat.

 

* * *

 

Another day and another HYDRA base wiped off the map. This one had gone down quickly and ahead of schedule. It was cause enough to celebrate--not that his men needed much of a push to find a bar and drink it dry.

Steve smiled, watching his men laugh and drink themselves stupid. They were raucous and bawdy bunch but the locals, no longer under the thumb of Schmidt’s men, joined right in. Steve was sure he’d have to break up a fight before the night was over, but for now he was content to nurse his own drink and watch the people that had come to be not just his friends, but _family,_ have a good time.

Sitting at a table tucked in the corner, Steve grinned at what the rowdy, ragtag group of soldiers had come to mean to him. Wanting to make a remark about how much their lives had changed, Steve turned to look at Bucky but the expression on his face caught Steve off guard. Bucky was already looking at him with his own smile, one Steve hadn’t seen in a long while. Warm, real, and honest. A smile that’d been so rare since Steve rescued him from the depths of Zola’s lab. Not wanting to risk losing that smile, Steve tabled his comment and let himself enjoy the moment.

They didn’t talk much the rest of the night, sipping at their drinks and watching everyone else enjoy themselves, but toward the end of the night, when everyone was starting to settle in and a few of the men had taken off with the local girls who were eager to show thanks, Steve felt Bucky’s hand cover his under the table and squeeze.

Steve’s heart raced. Other than incidental contact, Bucky had barely touched him since Zola, and they hadn’t done much more than a friendly hug since before Bucky had enlisted. When Steve glanced over and saw the look on Bucky’s face, though, there would be no mistaking the open desire written there. Steve squeezed Bucky’s hand in return and gave a quick nod to the back door. He excused himself and said goodnight to the remaining patrons, reminding the remains of his team that they had another mission in two days, so please try to sober up before then, and then made his way out the back. He felt Bucky’s eyes on him the entire time.

When Bucky came out less than five minutes later, Steve didn’t give him a chance to speak, he simply grabbed his friend’s arm and pulled him in, crowding him up against the wall. Bucky’s lips flickered into a small smile before Steve leaned down to see if he still tasted as good as Steve remembered.

They kissed in the moonlight of a dark alleyway, listening to the strains of the record playing in the bar, drifting out softly through the open windows and the cracks in the door. Steve couldn’t remember the last time he had felt that happy.

Two days later a mission goes wrong and Bucky falls.

 

* * *

 

Steve jerked awake, the scratching of the turntable needle the only sound in his apartment. He remembered that night with Bucky vividly. He remembered the way Bucky’s lips had tasted, the way Bucky’s bare skin felt under his hands… He remembered the song that was playing as he and Bucky began their own private celebration against the wall of the ramshackle bar.

Steve scrambled out of his chair and reset the needle. When the familiar melody reached his ears, He felt the air get knocked out of his chest. His heart squeezed painfully, a rush of adrenaline flowing through his veins.

_Bucky._

 

 

 


End file.
